


Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

by MadamAirlock



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamAirlock/pseuds/MadamAirlock
Summary: A little mischief is at work during the LAPD's annual Halloween party.





	1. And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from William Shakespeare's _Macbeth._

Laughter and chatter filled the murder room, dozens of people milling around the Halloween decorations, carved pumpkins, and tables of food. Sharon stood off to one side, as close to the exit as she could be without it being obvious. One hand held her cup of punch close and the other fiddled with her dress, her eyes continually scanning the room in search of her husband. Normally, she wouldn’t expect Jack to show up to something like this; normally she wouldn’t either, but he had seemed so excited when she mentioned it and agreed on their couple’s costume. He had gotten her hopes up again and she’d probably return to an empty condo once again.

Sighing, she gulped down the rest of her drink and tossed the cup in the trash as she walked by, using her now-free hand to pluck the pirate’s hat off her head and let it loosely dangle from her fingers. She left the room, not even bothering to make sure no one noticed—she knew very few people in the room really cared for her anyway—and started down the hallway, her boots clicking loudly against the tile.

Halfway to the bathroom, the betrayal overwhelmed her. She stopped and leaned against the wall, burying her face in her hat while she tried to take deep breaths. A few tears leaked out and she carefully wiped them away, jumping when she heard the door to the party open. The hallway was filled with diluted music, but she ignored it and turned around to find somewhere to hide; there’s no way she would let any member of the LAPD see her cry for any reason, let alone her worthless and absent husband.

She found an unlocked closet and quickly stepped inside, allowing the door to mostly close behind her. She fumbled for the light and then thought better, instead blindly feeling around for a safe place to lean. Before she could get comfortable, the door to the closet opened. She held her breath and pressed back into the darkness, fingers tightly clutching her hat and praying that whoever it was found what they were looking for and left without knowing she was there.

“Captain Raydor?” Her eyes squeezed closed at her name and she tightened her grip on her hat until her knuckles went white, hoping it was somehow a mistake, someone who was looking for her for some odd reason. “Sharon, I know you’re in here.” The door opened further and she watched as the light spread until it hit her feet, her legs, and all the way up to her face.

She swallowed and cleared her throat, reluctantly stepping further into the light and silently cursing when she came face to face with Lieutenant Flynn. “Can I help you?”

“I saw you rush in here. Worried something was wrong.” He raised an eyebrow and flipped the light on, giving him a full few of her tearstained face. “And something’s clearly wrong.”

“It’s nothing. Fine.” She shrugged and patted down her hair before she put her hat back on and settled it into place. He was blocking her exit and she sighed audibly. “It’s been a long day, Lieutenant, and I’m not much in the mood for a party full of people who dislike me.” She started to push past him, but the sound of the murder room door opening again stopped her shirt.

“Walk out now and there’s bound to be rumors.” Flynn stepped out of her way, but gave her a pointed look.

“What do you suggest then?” She raised an eyebrow and rested her hands on her hips.

Footsteps approached the closet they stood in and both reacted instantly. Sharon’s fingers went for the light switch while Flynn shut the door, encasing them in complete darkness save for the strip of light shining under the door. Neither moved and they barely breathed as they listened to the footsteps gradually grow louder and then fade away. They waited a few more moments before he fumbled for the door and tried to open it.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked, reaching for the handle before he could even respond.

“It won’t open…”

She didn’t reply, quickly finding out for herself when the handle barely moved. She tried harder, pushing and pulling against the door, but to no avail. She kept trying for several moments until Flynn pushed her hand away.

“It’s locked and jiggling it isn’t going to do any good.”

“Oh my god. Just what this stupid, awful day needs.” She groaned and pressed her hands against her face.

Flynn was quiet, watching her silhouette as his eyes started adjusting to the darkness. He didn’t want to make the situation worse by adding that it was unlikely they’d get out without rumors spreading. She turned around and after a moment, sat down on a large bucket in the corner. He became aware of how small the closet really was with both of them inside and the door shut. Sighing, he leaned against the door and let his own hat fall to the ground.

“My husband was supposed to be here,” she murmured after what felt like minutes of tense silence. “He came home last week. He didn’t ask for money or anything, he just came home…”

He had heard so many horror stories about Jackson Raydor, both drunk and sober, and his heart went out to the woman married to that. A woman very similar to his own ex-wife. It also helped him understand a little more about why Captain Raydor was like she was and that didn’t help the strange feelings he already had for her.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You don’t like me.” Her voice softened and he couldn’t tell if she was crying or not.

He wasn’t sure if it was the punch or the dark closet, but he knelt down in front of her, ignoring how his knees protested at the hard tile.

“Captain Raydor… Sharon…” He sighed and looked down for a moment. “You are… an amazing woman.” He stopped, knowing he was getting into very dangerous territory. But he had never seen her break so much as a sweat and wondered if the lines between safe and dangerous even existed in this dark closet.

She sniffled, but kept her head in her hands.

“You are one of the highest ranking women in the LAPD, a damn good shot, and a damn good cop. I don’t know anything about you as a wife or a mother, but I’ve seen your kids, I’ve heard about them, and they seem like they were raised by a great woman.”

Her head raised enough for her to look at him, their eyes adjusted enough to make out each other’s expression. “You don’t… need to do this. We can just sit quietly until someone gets us out and we deal with whatever happens then…” Her voice broke, put she pushed on and swallowed.

“You think I’m saying this to get on your good side?”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this… How much of that punch did you drink?”

“None, it was spiked.” He allowed a small smile to cross his lips and shifted, deciding to just sit on the ground in front of her. “I don’t know why I’m saying this, but I mean every word of it. You don’t deserve someone who runs out on you…”

She let out a quiet but bitter laugh and shook her head. “I committed to this relationship, this marriage, when I was 19 years old… I think I’m getting exactly what I deserve. An empty house, an absent husband, a job where everyone loathes me…”

Her voice grew shaky and she stood up, but Andy’s close proximity threw her off balance. She started to fall over, but he managed to rise to his knees and grab her, holding her up. Only after she was stabilized did he realize that one of his hands rested on her waist and the other on her thigh underneath her dress. He quickly pulled his hands back and clenched them into fists by his side, thanking the darkness for hiding any embarrassing reactions he might start feeling.

“Shit, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I just… You fell…” He cleared his throat and carefully stood up, brushing his hand through his hair and definitely hating how thin his costume pants were.

She waved her hand and he felt the brief movement of air from how close they were. “Just so we’re in agreement… Everything that’s happened in here is staying in here. I’ll write you up and send you to so many sensitivity trainings….” Her voice held a note of warning, but it was almost overshadowed by her pleading tone.

He held his hands up and shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He paused. “No one would believe me, anyway.”

“No, I suppose not.” She started to sit down again, but stopped with the unmistakable sound of ripping fabric. She immediately groaned and threw her head back. “God, I could use just one break today. One thing to go in my favor.” She tried to move again, but Andy could tell she was stuck.

“Hang on, I’ll help.” He carefully reached around her, trying not to touch her too much but needing to feel for where her costume was stuck.

He found the tense fabric and followed it to the shelf it was caught on. He stepped closer and gently worked it free, feeling the tear to try to determine how bad it was.

“It doesn’t seem too bad…” he murmured, looking down at her and realizing how close they stood.

She looked up and let out a soft breath. “Thank you…”

“Sometimes we all need… a helping hand. Or someone to listen. A friend.”

“And if we need… want… something more?” She quickly shook her head and looked down.

“Everything stays in this room?” She returned her gaze to him, her expression filled with confusion.

“Yes…”

He gave a short nod and moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him or protest. His hand cupped her cheek and gently drew her face to his, their lips connecting ever so softly.She returned the kiss, her hands slowly coming up to rest against his chest and her fingers tangling in the loose folds of his shirt. She let out a soft gasp, and then it all ended in a flash of light.

The door was yanked open, blinding light filling the room. Sharon, her back to the wall, instinctively turned away from the doorway while Andy took several steps back.

“I’m grabbin’ a mop, calm down in there!” Brenda’s thick accent filled the room, followed by her gasp and she finally looked in to find it occupied by Sharon and Andy. “O-Oh…”

“Chief, it’s not what it looks like,” Andy immediately spoke up, gesturing between him and Sharon. “We…”

“Bathroom was out of paper towels,” Sharon interjected. “Lieutenant Flynn couldn’t figure out where to get more and in the interest of cleanliness, I showed him the closet.”

“The door shut behind us and locked us in,” he finished.

Brenda raised an eyebrow and looked between them, a mixture of confusion and disbelief flickering across her face. “I see… Listen, I don’t care what ya’ll do, just keep it outta work. And don’t break any rules.” She shook her head and held her hand out for the mop by Sharon.

Sharon handed her the mop with a soft scoff. “You’re one to talk about not breaking the rules.”

The other woman rolled her eyes and walked away without another word, leaving Sharon and Andy alone once again. Sharon hesitated a moment and then stepped out of the closet, glancing back to make sure the rip really wasn’t that bad.

“Sharon…”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant. I… have an empty condo to return to.”

He watched her, taking a moment to appreciate how much more revealing her pirate captain outfit was compared to her usual clothes. “If you ever need a friend,” he made sure to emphasize the word as he watched her.

She smiled a little, but turned and walked away without replying. Andy sighed and watched her go, waiting until she was out of sight before he shut the closet door behind him. He knew there was no chance of anything happening with Sharon, even if she left her asshole husband. They worked together and that was one line he knew she’d never cross.


	2. And So It Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I fully intended this chapter to be a nice Shandy, consequences of their kiss in the closet chapter. And that didn’t happen. Which means there’s probably gonna be a third chapter now.... Which I’m sure you’re all complaining about.

When Sharon returned home, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to find her condo dark and empty. Needing to make sure, she checked her room and the spare room for any sign of her husband or his belongings and found none. Sighing, she tossed her hat onto the spare bed and returned to her own room, sinking onto the mattress and immediately pulling her boots off. Conflicting emotions battled within her mind and she laid back, eyes staring up at the pale ceiling above her. She was up, betrayed, that Jack had left again, but she wasn’t surprised. She was relieved, especially with the memory of Andy and their kiss so fresh on her lips. And her thoughts toward Andy were shoved behind a door with too many locks to count. They’d been friends at one point, good friends, but she ruined that.

_20 Years Ago_

Sharon carried a pitcher of tea in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in the other, tightly holding on to them as she used her hip to push the back door open. She stepped onto the porch, a small smile appearing at the sound of upbeat music and chattering. She glanced around, ever the perfect hostess, to make sure everyone was enjoying themselves, and her gaze landed on Andy and Ricky playing baseball near the back of the yard. She watched them for a moment until the pitchers grew too heavy and then hurried to set them on the drinks table. Deciding to finally eat herself, she sought out her almost-teenage daughter and took her seat next to her.

  
“How did the burgers turn out?”

  
“They’re okay.” Emily shrugged and picked at the bun. “Not as good as Dad’s.”

  
Sharon sighed and ate a small bite of her own. “I know.” She fell silent and listened to the conversation of her close neighbors that shared their table. She barely swallowed a bite before the conversation turned to her.

  
”Where’s your husband, Sharon? I thought he would be grilling some of his amazing steaks for us today,” her neighbor, Rebecca, murmured, looking at Sharon curiously.

  
“Oh, um.” Sharon paused and fiddled with her fork, her mind rushing through too many thoughts at once. “He had to go out of town for work suddenly. He promised to make up for it at Labor Day, though.” The lie felt grating against her mouth as it came out, but she knew there was no way she would tell anyone the truth.

  
It had been a good few months. Jack had been home, sober, and involved with his kids for the first time in a while. He was there long enough for them to get used to being a full, functional family again. Then, he wiped out their savings and disappeared a week ago, and Sharon didn’t want to admit to anyone that she had been fooled again. And since this party had already been planned and readied, she couldn’t risk canceling it.

  
“It’s a shame,” Rebecca continued. “His steaks are better than anything else I’ve had. God, they're better than Rob’s.” She glanced at her husband, and he nodded in agreement.

  
“I don’t know what he does that makes them so good, but damn.” He laughed and leaned back in his chair.

  
Sharon managed a polite smile and glanced at Emily out of the corner of her eye. She had told her kids the same story, but she knew her eldest was starting to question things. Sighing silently, she forced herself to eat most of her food and then gathered up her trash with Emily’s to throw it away. Andy met her at the trash can and smiled.

  
“Ricky’s getting pretty good at baseball,” he commented, looking back toward Ricky who was tossing the baseball around by himself.

  
“I know… He’s been begging me to let him join a team.”

  
“Well, why haven’t you?”

  
“I… I don’t have time to take him to practice.” The lies seemed to pile up and it made her stomach twist.

  
“I could help out. If you don’t mind.” He shrugged and something in his voice made her look up.

  
She knew things weren’t great with his own family after he battled with alcoholism, but she also knew he had pulled himself out of that pit and was doing so much better. She just wished his ex-wife and kids could see that too.

  
“I…” She sighed and glanced around at the party before she grabbed his hands and pulled him inside.

  
He shut the door behind them and followed her back to her room, confusion etched across his face. She shut and locked her bedroom door and sat on the bed, her hands immediately covering her face as she curled up.

  
“What—Sharon, what’s wrong?” He knelt beside her, resting his hand on her knee.

  
“Jack left,” she whispered, shaking her head and pulling her hands back only to take her glasses off and toss them onto the nightstand. “A week ago.”

  
“Oh. Shit.” He sighed and shifted to sit beside her, gently wrapping his arm around her now-shaking form.

  
“Things were going so well… He was with a new law firm, he was sober… He was here for the kids.” She swallowed and let out a shaky breath. “And then he left. Took everything I had too.” A few tears leaked out and trailed down her right cheek before they dripped onto her dress in almost perfect circles.

  
“Shit, Sharon… I’m sorry.”

  
She immediately shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Andy. You actually got your crap together and decided you valued what you had over alcohol. Jack… did the opposite.” A few more tears leaked out and she wiped them away with a trembling hand. “I can’t afford to pay for Ricky to do baseball because everything I have is going to their tuition at St. Joseph’s and Emily’s ballet… It’s not fair to him.”

  
Andy was quiet for a moment, trying to process his thoughts as he held Sharon close. “Let me help,” he finally said.

  
Stunned, she tilted her head and looked up at him, a protest already on her lips. He shook his head to stop her and turned his body to fully face her.

  
“I don’t mind and I want to help. You’re my friend, Sharon, and I’ve spent more time with your kids the past year than I have with my own… If I can’t be there for mine, then I at least can help you out…” He furrowed his brow, the words not coming out exactly as he wanted.

  
“I don’t…”

  
“I’m not doing this out of some misguided way to make things up to my own kids. I want to help you, I want to help Emily and Ricky. If you’ll let me.” He gently cupped her face so he could meet her eyes, his thumb gently stroking along her cheek.

  
“Andy…” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly. She bit down her own pride and thought of her kids. “Okay…”

  
“Really?”

  
“For my kids…” She fell silent, allowing herself to lean into his touch.

  
Her body relaxed and she found herself leaning closer, her hand coming up to rest on top of his. He watched her, searching her face, her eyes, for any sign as to what she wanted. She answered his unspoken question after a moment by leaning forward and softly pressing their lips together. He hesitated until her hand slid down to his knee before he kissed her back, his hand moving to rest on the back of her neck. They parted, breathing audibly with their mouths inches away from each other, and then she pressed their lips together again with more force.

  
He let her take the lead, only doing and going where he knew she wanted him too, eventually ending with her naked in his arms on top of the blankets. Her head rested against his chest, her fingers absently tracing along his muscles and scars. He rubbed her back where his hand rested, feeling the divots and bumps along her spine. His head was angled so he could watch her, trying to ignore the guilt starting to creep into his mind. The guilt seemed to hit her at the same time and she jerked upright, frantically pulling at the blankets to cover herself.

  
“Oh my god. Oh my god… Oh my god!” She yanked the blankets hard enough to move Andy, holding them up to her face. “I… We… Shit!”

  
“Sharon…”

  
“No… No… God, this was a mistake… I… You need to go.”

  
“Sharon, please.” He sat up and reached for her, but she recoiled and climbed off the bed.

  
“Get out now… Andy, please. Just go.” The pleading in her voice, the terrified expression on her face, finally got him moving.

  
He quietly redressed, trying to make sure everything was as in place as it could be. Sharon trembled and watched from the other side of the bed, unable to move from the spot she was in. When he was finally dressed, he watched her motionless form for a moment before he sighed and slowly walked out.

  
Sharon didn’t talk to him again. She ignored his calls, walked away from him at work, and did everything she could to avoid him. The only thing that gave him a hint of hope was when she deposited the check he sent her for Ricky’s baseball team and nothing more until she joined FID and gave no sign to him or anyone that they had ever been anything but enemies.


	3. And So A Crossroad Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the hours of midnight and four am, the mind is less guarded. After the events at the Halloween party, Andy catches Sharon during the right time.

After hours of tossing and turning until her sheets were tangled up with her nightgown, she gave up on sleep. She retreated to the balcony with a cup of chamomile tea, a light blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she settled into a lounge chair and looked out over the city. Despite the early hour, dozens of cars lined the streets and she could hear the almost comforting sounds of traffic and movement. The moon was hidden behind thin clouds, casting enough light for her to see her surroundings as her eyes adjusted. Even now, hours after she had seen, touched, Andy, her mind still wandered to him. She wondered what he was doing, if he was lying awake as she was, or if he had completely pushed the event completely from his mind. She couldn’t blame him if that was the case.

Her heart ached, and she set her tea down, carefully tugging her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them to hold them close. She rested her head against her knees and watched the city while her thoughts raced. She almost didn’t hear her phone ring and barely managed to rush to the kitchen an answer it.

“Captain Raydor.” She knew exhaustion heavily coated her voice and she couldn’t find herself to care, no matter who was on the other end of the call.

“Sharon…” His voice was soft, pleading and worried, and the second-to-last voice she thought she would hear.

“Andy.” She sighed and leaned against the counter, her head resting in her hand. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“You were up anyway.” The confidence in his voice reminded her of how well he still knew her, even all of these years and horrible interactions later.

“That’s beside the point.” Her voice held an edge to it, brought about by years of betrayal by her husband and she didn’t know how to get rid of it now.

“Sharon, please. I just want to talk. I want to do what we should’ve done twenty years ago and definitely should have done tonight. Last night. Whatever.”

Talking was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to bury her head in sand and stay there until everyone forgot her relationship with Andy and she could move on. But twenty years of avoiding this and him had only led them to this moment.

“Fine,” was all she said.

“I don’t want to talk over the phone.” He stopped, clearly wanting to say more, but remaining silent long enough that Sharon wondered if he had hung up. “Can I come over?”

“Come over? Andy, it’s—” she glanced over at her coffee pot and groaned, “—going on three am, and you want to come over?”

“Neither of us are going to sleep tonight and as far as I know, we’re both off tomorrow. I just want to talk, Sharon… We can keep our hands to ourselves and I’ll leave the moment you want me to. You know I will.”

She cringed at what he implied, knowing she was the bad guy in all of this. “Okay…”

“I can be there in twenty.”

She didn’t even bother to ask how he knew where she lived and barely managed a hum of understanding before she hung up. Her phone landed on the counter with a soft thud and she buried her face in her hands, a headache starting to form from her constantly rushing thoughts.

It took her a while to get moving, but she managed to put on her robe and run a brush through her hair before Andy arrived, not bothering with anything more. She put the kettle on the stove and filled it with water, Andy’s knock sounding just before it started whistling loudly. She silently unlocked and puled the door open, immediately retreating to the kitchen and holding her robe tightly closed. She heard the door click shut and soft thuds as he took his shoes off and followed her.

“Earl gray tea okay?”

“Um. Yeah, of course.” He awkwardly leaned against her counter, watching as she poured two cups of tea over teabags.

“Milk? Sugar?”

He shook his head and accepted the mug she offered him, allowing the warmth to soak through his hands. “You can only stall this conversation so long by tea…”

“Watch me try…”

            She sat at the table, one leg tucked under the other and her elbows resting on the wooden surface with her tea between them. Andy sat a seat away from her, far enough to give her space but close enough for contact. She stared into her mug, watching as the liquid swirled with her spoon and always careful never to clink the metal against the ceramic.

“I’m still married.” The words were short, to the point, and she never looked up from her tea.

“Why?” His tone matched hers. She looked up at him, struggling to understand the meaning of his question. “Why are you still married to Jack?”

“Because I… He…”

“Because he’s familiar? Comfortable? Because you’ve been married to him for decades and Catholic guilt tells you that you shouldn’t get a divorce?” His voice and gaze forced her eyes to him, watching every microexpression as it crossed his face. “Am I wrong?”

She managed a slight shake of her head, finally managing to draw her gaze away from him and down to her hands. She no longer had a dent or tan line from her wedding ring. Her original had been pawned by Jack by the time Emily was 13 and she hadn’t worn her replacement since she sold the house and bought her condo in her name only. Still, she lightly traced her thumb over where her ring would rest, forced to consider Andy’s words. He was silent, knowing she needed space to process it herself.

“Even if I could… go that route,” she began slowly, still processing as she spoke. “I can’t do it to be in a relationship with someone else. Even you… Especially you.”

“No, but you can do it for yourself. You don’t owe him anything, Sharon, and you don’t deserve to have your heart broken every time he drops in and inevitably leaves.” He leaned against the table, leaned closer to her, wanting to reach out and grab her hand but resisting.

“My heart…” She shook her head and swallowed, trying to get around the solid lump in her throat. “My heart hasn’t been the same in two decades, Andy… As much as Jack has hurt me… Somehow it doesn’t compare to when I forced you out.” She swallowed again, tear-filled eyes meeting his once more. “And what does that say about me? A married woman whose heart was broken by someone else.”

He chose his words very carefully. “I think it says that the man you married isn’t the one you were meant to be with. At that point in time, 30 years ago, he was. But now… You’ve changed and grown. He’s changed.”

“Andy…”

“No, please listen. I’m not saying that I’m the one or anything remotely like that. I’m just saying that Jack isn’t the one and you deserve to be happy.” He sighed and gave in, stretching his arm out to lightly rest his hand over hers. When she didn’t pull back, he gently encased her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I have never and will never tell you what to do or force you to do something you don’t want. I’ve always wanted to be your friend, to help you and listen to you… Even if you don’t always want to hear what I have to say.”

She was quiet for several moments, her fingers lightly twitching in his grasp. “What about my kids?”

“Your grown, adult kids? Sharon, a divorce doesn’t separate Jack from Emily and Ricky. It just separates you and him. And I have a feeling if you talked with your kids… they would be relieved to hear it.”

            She let out a shaky breath and tried to curl up in the chair, but there wasn’t enough room. She struggled for a moment before giving up with a soft, pained groan. Her headache had grown worse, pounding at her temples, but it contrasted with the lightness she felt on her shoulders. Even if she hadn’t made a decision, finally talking about twenty years’ worth of thoughts had lifted a weight off her heart and shoulders.

“I need to think… I can’t… make this decision after one conversation, and definitely not before the sun’s risen…”

“My friendship isn’t contingent on your divorce, but on if you want me around or not.”

“I do…” she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “I have… missed you so, so much. I’ve hated every argument we’ve had, every spat and fight, since then…”

He shook his head and stood up, crossing to her chair and gently pulling it back from the table. She looked up at him and then stood herself, but he took a step back to keep space between them.

“I don’t want you to go…”

He watched the conflict play across her face in the dim lighting from her living room lamp and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

            He guided them to her couch and helped settle her onto the cushions. He grabbed the blanket off the back and carefully tucked it around her before he sat down, his arm easily settling around her shoulders. She shifted to curl into her side, barely restrained eagerness seeking out his warmth and physical contact. He held her as close as she allowed, his head coming to rest against hers. His fingers soothingly moved up and down her arm and he listened as her breathing started to slow and even out. It didn’t take long before she was asleep against him, her fingers loosely tangled in his shirt as if to keep him from going anywhere. He sighed and kissed her head, his own eyes sliding closed. He knew he wouldn’t sleep and even as exhaustion rippled through every old bone in his body, he felt a sense of peace settle over him.   


End file.
